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TB Dentz Aug 2018
She's got art and power
And she's not afraid to show it off
All I've got is a few bad rhymes
Chilled to the bone by an internal scoff

She's a natural born creative
Confidence like a high class egomaniac
I'm an extraordinary type of average
And fragile like a budding lilac

Try to criticize her and she will deny you
Rebuke you, refute you, and defy you
Becoming stronger, harder and better
Nothing you can do will ever end her

Imply that I might somehow be inferior
I will run, hide, and be reduced to tears
Force me to face my greatest fear
Tell me I'm not good enough to be here

That is the difference between me and her
TB Dentz Aug 2018
Bury me again I asked for it
Fight me and I won't fight back
It's not about my religion this time
I'm a glutton for punishment

Where else can I be of service
I have nothing left to give
But here I am there must be something
Take it all leave me nothing

In a few years time I'll be free
Then I can begin again
To make my life my own
For now I will live for you
TB Dentz Jul 2018
I climbed to the top of a mountain
And rolled back down in a barrel of oil

I threw a plastic bottle in the ocean
Just to see what would happen

I visited the tropics, both of them
And littered in each one

I am the creator of worlds
And I am the destroyer
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Why so serious all the time
Why do the poems never rhyme
What's the meaning of
"2 AM
Standing outside
Smoking a cigarette
Talking to a trash bin"

Why do we have to act so wise
I'd rather set a poem to music
Than to set it on your eyes
But here we are because I messed up
And got no talent for anything but the abstract
It all falls apart in the end... sometimes sooner than later
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Wherefore art my purpose in life
I'm filled with passion, love, and fight
Bursting with spirit until I'm overcome
By social anxiety and a long line at the grocery store

I want to be good but I'm without determination
I've been taught leadership, sure
And I don't want to be a follower
But do I want to make others into followers?

Is it possible to do good and not be a hypocrite
To organize people for a purpose
Without taking advantage of them
Without rewarding their efforts fairly?

Verily I remain a thinker, a ponderer
And regrettably not a man of action
It must be a moral quandary that keeps me at home
Because I could never admit that it's only fear of failure
The main reason I'm not the president. Of anything
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Reinaldo was the name they gave the great white elephant
Who came to clear the jungles around Sao Paulo
A clever notion that because Reinaldo was born in the jungle
Any jungle would do just fine, Brazilian or Siamese made no difference
Just as clever was the notion that because I was a black man, educated
I would do just fine directing other black men to do work, English or Portuguese made no difference
Was I truly so much a fool, twice over?

Reinaldo occasionally was afflicted with slothfulness
Some of the men thought it was from lack of **** and whip
I was of a mind that it was due to lack of companionship
It was costly enough to ship one giant beast across a great sea
I left a wife, in Maryland, whom I never loved and who never loved me
I admit before the plan was in motion I never considered that Reinaldo could have a family
Sometimes, I wonder, did he have a wife who never loved him?

Loneliness became a common theme in our new home away from home
And Reinaldo and I became friends, at least I thought of him fondly
As far as I could say, of all the men he responded best to me
At times it seemed a load of lumber was hauled as a personal favor
For the handler too soft to handle with fear and anger
But as much as loneliness was a theme, so was change, and death

The lifespan of an elephant compares to the lifespan of men
Were this scheme of mine to have worked as desired
I could have sent for a cow, and made Reinaldo a sire
Soon it was revealed that slothfulness was a symptom of an elephant young, healthy and wise
Who sensed not his own, but a friend's imminent demise
Now I am left to wonder how Reinaldo will fare in a world stranger than I could have known
His softest handler and only friend bedridden, waiting for my disease to take its final toll
This poem is not about me
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Sometimes I neglect the people I love
And who are good to me and never let me down
Because I’m caught up on the people who failed me
Why do we all but lose ourselves over people like that

If the energy I put into trying to help
Someone who won’t even help themselves
Was spent on the people that deserve it
I would be person of the year every year

When there’s nothing left to talk about
When you’ve said the same thing over and over
And you aren’t getting anywhere because no one is listening
What do you do?

It’s like talking to a wall
Asking it to move
Don’t remember when the wall went up
But it’s there and there’s no way around it

What do you do
Try to climb over it break it down
Year maybe for a while until you realize you’re getting no where
Then you do the inevitable, walk away
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